Wenger never gave Pat Rice a direct answer.
The only advice he offered was simple:
"Go and win."
Unfortunately, that left Pat even more confused than before.
Win?
How exactly was he supposed to do that?
Wenger had conveniently reminded him that he was now the acting manager and that these problems were his responsibility to solve. For a brief moment, Pat Rice seriously considered dragging Wenger out of his hospital bed and carrying him back to the training ground.
His old friend could be incredibly irritating when he wanted to be.
Still, frustration solved nothing.
If Arsenal were going to get through this difficult period, someone had to take action.
The burden of being European champions.
Complacency.
Tactical targeting by opponents.
Those were the three issues Wenger had identified.
Pat needed to deal with them one at a time.
The question was where to begin.
The answer seemed obvious.
The Champions League burden.
How could Arsenal stop seeing themselves as reigning European champions?
The problem was that they were reigning European champions.
They had won the trophy only a few months ago.
There was no way to pretend it had never happened.
If they could not erase the achievement, then they needed something new to focus on.
A bigger goal.
A more demanding challenge.
. . .
The next morning, Pat Rice gathered the squad together before training.
"I've decided on our objective for the season."
The players looked at him curiously.
Pat took a deep breath.
"Back-to-back Champions League titles."
Silence.
Several players exchanged glances.
Some even wondered whether Pat Rice had lost his mind.
Their current form was dreadful.
They could barely create chances.
They had failed to win either of their opening league matches.
Yet Pat was talking about defending the Champions League. It felt like asking a man with both arms in casts to step into a boxing ring and challenge the heavyweight champion. The idea sounded completely ridiculous.
Pat Rice could see the skepticism written across every face.
"I know what you're thinking," he said firmly. "But this is our goal."
No one responded.
Pat continued.
"Starting today, before every training session, we're going to remind ourselves what we're chasing."
The players immediately sensed something unpleasant coming.
Sure enough, Pat Rice pointed toward the pitch.
"Three times."
Everyone groaned.
"Out loud."
The groans became even louder.
Pat folded his arms.
"Now."
The squad reluctantly obeyed.
"Back-to-back Champions League titles!"
The first shout lacked conviction.
"Louder!"
"Back-to-back Champions League titles!"
A few players started laughing.
Pat's expression remained unchanged.
"Again!"
This time, the entire squad roared together.
"BACK-TO-BACK CHAMPIONS LEAGUE TITLES!"
Their voices echoed across the training ground.
Only then did Pat allow training to begin.
Whether the exercise would actually work, he had no idea, but at the very least, it gave the players a new target.
And right now, that was better than having no target at all. Unfortunately, Arsenal's problems did not disappear overnight.
. . .
A few days later, they travelled across South London to face Crystal Palace at Selhurst Park.
Having lost twice to Arsenal the previous season, Crystal Palace approached the match with caution.
They lined up in a compact 4-5-1 formation and focused almost entirely on defending.
The message was clear.
Break us down if you can.
Arsenal attempted to play with greater attacking intent.
The problem was execution.
By the seventieth minute, the score remained 0-0.
Crystal Palace had successfully turned the match into a battle of patience.
"Crystal Palace have been incredibly disciplined defensively," Andy Gray said from the commentary booth.
"They've absorbed pressure for seventy minutes and still haven't conceded."
He paused before adding:
"Meanwhile, Arsenal continue to struggle in attack. They simply can't find a way through."
The criticism was difficult to argue against.
This was not the Arsenal of last season.
Everything looked disjointed.
Their passing lacked rhythm.
Their movement lacked purpose.
Even simple combinations seemed difficult.
Kai bent forward with his hands resting on his knees.
Sweat dripped from his face onto the grass.
He felt exhausted.
Not physically, but mentally.
Every minute of this match felt like a struggle.
The chemistry that had once come naturally seemed to have vanished.
Kai understood the problem better than most.
Last season, his speeches and encouragement had often inspired the team.
But those words had only been the spark.
The real fuel had come from the players themselves.
From their ambition.
Their desperation.
Their dream of becoming champions.
Now they had already achieved that dream.
The fire that once burned so brightly had faded.
No matter how much Kai tried to motivate them, the response was never quite the same.
The players listened.
They agreed.
Then they stepped onto the pitch and played with the handbrake on.
At least their defensive structure remained intact.
Crystal Palace rarely threatened their goal.
But that offered little comfort.
The match was painful to watch.
As the clock ticked down, the tension grew.
"We're entering the final minutes," Andy Gray said.
"Arsenal still haven't found a breakthrough."
He shook his head.
"Bad, bad start from the European champions."
Moments later, the referee blew the final whistle.
0-0.
The Crystal Palace supporters erupted in celebration. To them, taking a point from Arsenal felt almost like a victory. Every point mattered in a relegation battle.
For Arsenal, however, it felt like another defeat.
That evening, the atmosphere on the team bus was suffocating.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody even looked at one another.
Suárez pulled his cap over his eyes and leaned back into his seat.
Whether he was sleeping or simply avoiding conversation, nobody could tell.
What everyone knew was that he was furious.
Throughout the match, Suárez had been one of Arsenal's few bright spots. He had created chances through sheer determination and individual brilliance. Again and again, the opportunities had gone unfinished.
No one knew what was going through his mind.
But some wondered whether he was beginning to regret staying at Arsenal.
Kai sat quietly by the window.
The city lights flashed past outside.
His expression was grim.
Two league matches.
No victories.
No goals.
For a team that had conquered Europe only months earlier, it was a shocking decline. More than anything, Kai hated the feeling. Football had always been demanding.
But this was different.
This felt powerless.
And that was what frustrated him most.
At times, Kai found himself seriously considering a more drastic solution.
What if he pushed further forward from his new hybrid defensive-central midfield position and took responsibility for organizing the attack himself?
The idea had crossed his mind more than once.
The problem was obvious.
If he moved higher up the pitch, he would be forced to sacrifice much of his defensive work.
Would that actually help the team, or would it simply create another problem?
Perhaps it was finally time to try something different.
The following morning, Kai went directly to Pat Rice's office.
"You want to change positions?"
Pat looked genuinely surprised.
Kai nodded.
"Our biggest problem right now is in attack. Nobody is consistently connecting midfield and attack. The forwards are getting isolated."
Pat immediately shook his head.
"No, no, no. We have Jack. We also have Aubameyang. Both of them can contribute creatively."
Kai smiled slightly.
"Jack can do it, but he gets carried away too easily. And if we're being honest, he's not playing his best football at the moment."
Pat did not argue.
That was difficult to deny.
"As for Aubameyang," Kai continued, "he's a top player. Nobody doubts that. But he's still adapting to Arsenal's rhythm. He's learning how we move, how we pass, and how we create chances."
"He needs someone to help speed up that process."
Pat folded his arms and looked at Kai thoughtfully.
After a few moments, he asked,
"So let's say I move you into attacking midfield. What happens defensively?"
"Kanté and Flamini can handle it."
Kai answered immediately.
"Or Kanté and Wilshere."
"Either combination can work."
Pat remained silent.
Kai continued.
"Right now, Kanté is one of the few players performing at his usual level."
That much was true.
In Arsenal's opening matches, Kanté had been outstanding. He repeatedly broke up opposition attacks, covered enormous amounts of ground, and won possession all over the pitch.
Statistically, his numbers were almost matching Kai's.
More importantly, his performances suggested he was ready for greater responsibility. For the first time, Kanté looked capable of anchoring the midfield without Kai constantly beside him.
Pat Rice leaned back in his chair.
The idea was certainly worth considering.
After all, this was not some spontaneous experiment.
The coaching staff had spent more than a year preparing Kai for a more advanced role.
Throughout the previous season and even during the summer break, they had worked on expanding his skill set.
The plan had been delayed because of circumstances.
Now Arsenal's struggles were forcing them to revisit it.
Finally, Pat nodded.
"I'll think about it."
Kai smiled inwardly.
To anyone else, that answer sounded noncommittal.
To him, it sounded very different.
Pat had already made up his mind.
As a coach, he simply wasn't going to reveal his tactical plans ahead of time.
Kai stood up.
"Understood."
With that, he left the office.
. . .
Another week passed.
The mood around Arsenal continued to deteriorate. Supporters were becoming increasingly anxious. The dominant Arsenal that had conquered Europe only months earlier seemed to have vanished.
The players looked flat.
Their football lacked energy.
Even simple attacks appeared slow and predictable.
During matches, fans often saw Suárez pressing relentlessly in the final third. They saw Kai and Kanté covering impossible amounts of ground in midfield. They saw thirty-three-year-old Čech repeatedly rescuing the team with crucial saves.
Beyond that, everything felt disjointed.
Nothing flowed naturally.
Nobody understood exactly what had gone wrong.
The media, meanwhile, believed they had the answer.
The words Championship hangover appeared everywhere.
Pundits argued that Arsenal had lost their edge after reaching the summit of European football. Others pointed to Wenger's absence and Cazorla's injury as major factors behind the decline.
Many Arsenal supporters disliked those explanations.
Unfortunately, they were becoming harder to dismiss.
The numbers were impossible to ignore.
Two league matches.
One draw.
One defeat.
Zero goals scored.
Those results left Arsenal sitting in sixteenth place. Two positions above the relegation zone. It was an absurd sight. The reigning Champions League winners hovering near the bottom of the table.
Everyone understood it was still early in the season. Even so, the optics were terrible.
Across England, rival supporters watched with amusement.
Many were eagerly waiting for Arsenal to return to being football's punchline.
If the European champions actually slipped into the relegation zone, the headlines would write themselves.
Against this backdrop, Arsenal prepared to host Newcastle United at the Emirates Stadium.
The Magpies arrived full of confidence.
Arsenal's poor form was no longer a secret.
Every team in the league could see the uncertainty.
Every team sensed an opportunity.
Newcastle believed they could leave North London with all three points. But as the players walked onto the pitch and the lineups were announced, something immediately caught their attention.
Arsenal had made a significant adjustment.
For the first time since last season, Kai was starting in an advanced midfield role. He was operating behind the forwards.
The change surprised Newcastle's coaching staff.
It surprised the commentators.
It surprised the supporters.
The message was unmistakable.
Arsenal were looking for answers.
And this time, they had placed the responsibility for revitalizing the attack squarely on Kai's shoulders.
The question was simple.
Could Captain Fantastic bring Arsenal back to life?
. . .
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